Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
AIDEN
“Just give me one!” Koda snatches for the bag and I move it quickly away from his greedy little hands. Frustrated, he stomps—yes, stomps—then he skips backwards up the dirt path to the house. Koda is the only one who knows my car is hidden in the woods.
I didn’t want him to know, but this little fucker is sneaky and found out.
There’s a reason why his nickname is Shadow.
Walking closer to the shitbox we call home sweet home, my unease settles in. I should say “he” calls home. Mine is a rust bucket on wheels that I’ve kept running for nearly a decade. It was my mother’s car, and I’m surprised Ivan let me keep it. I guess it’s convenient for him for me to have it.
I’m not allowed in the house unless Ivan asks for me either. When he does, like he did this morning, I like to make sure I don’t show up empty-handed. So when we followed Jane to that bakery, I wasn’t coming back without something special for Katya.
Koda attempts to grab the bag again, and I slap his hand away from it. “Fuck off.”
Not quite sure why Ivan uprooted us all in the middle of the night in the middle of fucking winter and moved us to Bumfucksville upstate New York, but here we are.
I’d say it’s a lot safer here, but this house looks one stiff breeze away from collapsing.
“Noticed that baker giving you the old fuck-me eyes.” I roll mine as he blinks his, fluttering his lashes dramatically.
“Shut up.” No he wasn’t.
Ignoring the idiot who is not my brother I walk into the house and see one of Ivan’s dumbasses sitting on the sofa. Dominic’s playing with one of his knives, twirling it in the air. It’s so fucking cliché, like a bad action movie. I almost hope he slips and stabs his eye.
Tagar sits beside him reading one of his romance novels.
There’s something about a nearly seven-foot-tall man with face tattoos and a missing eye reading a pink book with a cartoon couple on the front that is just too amusing to ignore. He notices me as he lifts his eyes from the pages. “Did the girl have it?”
I ignore them both and head for the stairs. I don’t answer to them. Unfortunately, I hear the throat clear of the dickhead I do answer to. Fucking fantastic. I turn around, bag in hand, and see Ivan towering in the doorway.
“What? You said if we followed the girl I could see Katya.” I try my best to stand still. Don’t falter. Don’t show weakness. I steal my spine straighter.
Ivan is a big stocky guy pushing nearly fifty. The thick beard on his face hides the permaclench of his jaw. He’s scary as fuck.
He’s also Koda’s, and my little sister Katya’s, father.
She’s the only reason I do any of this bullshit. She’s the only person I give one single shit about. I don’t want her in this house with these idiots, even Koda, although it’s not because he’s evil.
It’s because he’s a dumbass. He’s reckless, impulsive, and sneaky as shit.
At least he loves her almost as much as I do, though. “Did you find it?”
Does it look like I’m holding a fucking elephant? “No.”
“Did you check the house thoroughly?”
No.
Jane was leaving when we stopped by to look at the house. “Yes.” I ignore Koda’s looks. To lighten the mood, I say, “Koda did try to hit on her, though.” I smirk.
“What?!” Ivan growls. Okay, shit. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. “You stay the fuck away from her.” Whoa. What the fuck.
“I didn’t!” Koda punches my arm. “Thanks a lot, dick. You’re one to talk. Her brother kept giving you fuck-me eyes the entire time we were at his bakery.”
Goddammit Koda.
I slowly turn my head to him. He sees it too, in my eyes. Fuck. I don’t want to play all my cards, and Koda damn near threw my hand in Ivan’s face. I want to find that elephant too, but I want leverage.
“Wait.” Ivan’s brows bunch. “Brother?” He’s thinking about something. “How old is he?”
“Didn’t ask for his birth certificate while I was there.” I hold up the bag. “Just wanted to get a cupcake for Kat.” All I know is that he’s kind of cute and loves lemon desserts, and is really bad at talking to strangers. “They look about the same age.”
“What’s his name?” Ivan says quietly.
Koda thinks. I won’t help him. He got us into this mess, he can deal with it. I’m not giving Ivan shit. “Some S name, right?” I ignore him. “Sam? Simon? Saw—”
“Sawyer,” Ivan whispers with a smile. It chills me. “Was it Sawyer?”
“Yeah!”
“Tom Sawyer.” I hear him whisper. “So predictable,”
“What?” I’m missing something here.
“We saw her going into his bakery,” Koda says.
“Where?”
“Fortsmith,” I rush out, giving him the name of a town over. Koda is giving him too much. Something isn’t right. I’m not sure what, but I know I don’t like this. I’m not protecting Sawyer, I’m just not giving Ivan everything. This information is for me. That’s right. For me.
“I want you to search that place top to bottom.”
“Why?” He blinks at me. Right. Not my fucking business. It’s possible the statue could be there. “How am I supposed to do that?”
Ivan walks toward us near the stairwell, and I bite back the urge to shrink with every step he takes. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s beaten me into submission. I nearly lost an eye at his hand. Tagar actually did. What Ivan lacks in brains he more than makes up for with violence.
He takes broken people, gives them a place to stay, then controls them.
We’re like toys to him. Collectibles.
He owns us, and while he doesn’t handle the dirty work himself, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill any of us if we disobeyed him. “I don’t give a fuck how, but you find that elephant and I’ll give you enough money to get your own place. And I’ll let Katya stay with you.”
My limbs grow cold.
He’s fucking lying.
There’s no way he’d let go of me. Not while I’m still breathing anyway. And there’s no way he’d let go of his bargaining chip. I hate it, but that’s all she is to him. He keeps her fed, clothed, and cared for, and it keeps me in line. “How the hell are you going to afford that?”
“You find that elephant and none us will have to worry about money for a long time.” I know it’s too good to be true, but there’s a chance .
. . I’m more curious about Sawyer’s role in all of this.
And why that statue? I have no idea what it even looks like.
Ivan’s described it numerous times, but I have no idea why he’s so obsessed with it.
“What about me?” Koda asks.
“Are you asking to abandon me?” Ivan glowers at his son.
Koda’s gaze drops to the floor and he shakes his head. “No sir.” My heart gives this annoying little pinch. I don’t feel sorry for this brat. I don’t.
“But you’ll let me have Katya?” I ask.
“What am I going to do with a little girl?” Koda’s jaw clenches. He’s only seventeen and I know he has a long life of this bullshit ahead of him. The only saving grace I have is not being blood related to Ivan. If I were, freedom wouldn’t be an option.
“Done,” I say to distract him, and it’s not because I feel bad for Koda. I don’t. I just want to find this stupid statue and get on with my life with Katya. She’s the only reason I’m breathing on this stupid spinning marble.
“You start tomorrow. I’ll give you some time. Don’t call a lot of attention to yourself. If you don’t find it, I will burn that place to the fucking ground. I don’t care how you do it, but find that elephant.”
I almost tell him to fuck off, but this is my shot.
If that elephant is as valuable as Ivan desperately believes, maybe I can cash it in myself.
It’s a shot. Koda told me Ivan’s gotten himself into trouble—debt, most likely.
Who the hell knows who he’s in debt to, though.
There are a few notorious crime families around the state, and I wouldn’t want to be on any of their shit lists.
“You have twenty minutes up there, then I want you out of my fucking house.” Not wasting time, I go upstairs and find the white door on the right. I take a deep breath. Part of me wishes I could just sleep in the house, but I won’t push. If Ivan means it, we’ll have our own place soon.
For now I’ll sleep in my car and bide my time. I’ve slept in worse places. You’d think sleeping in the middle of the woods would be creepy, but it’s not. Ghosts, shadow people, and even the occasional bear don’t scare me.
Who needs monsters from fairytales when humans are far more terrifying.
Slowly I open her door, peeking inside just in case she’s napping. Instead, I find her cross-legged on her bed reading a book. Her black curls bounce as she moves her mouth, reading the words on the page.
As if she can feel me, she looks toward the door. “Aiden!” she sequels, scrambling out of bed and flinging her book in the process before leaping into my arms. I almost don’t catch her. It’s been nearly two weeks since I was last allowed to see her.
She pulls back, and her clammy hands cup my jaw as she inspects me. Her tiny face morphs into worry. “Where did you go this morning? I thought you were coming up here.” She scowls.
“We had to run errands first. It took longer than I thought. I’m sorry.
” Setting her down, I sit beside her and show her the bag.
“I got you some things. Have you eaten today?” She shakes her head, and I tamp down my anger.
This is what I mean. It’s not that they starve her, but they won’t actively get her things unless she asks.
I know she could go downstairs and make herself something, but no one checks on her. She’s mentally older than a lot of six-year-olds, I know this, but still. She deserves to be checked on, cared for, and thought of. “Well, how about dessert for breakfast?”
“What is it?” She tries to peek inside the bag. I pull out the seafoam-green box with the bakery’s name on it: Moonlight Confections.
Cute.
Her dark eyes light up, and I kick my shoes off and sit back on her bed against the headboard. “I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
I’ve lived in the United States for most of my life, but this one thing I can never wrap my mind around. Pancakes, donuts, and cinnamon rolls . . . fine. But a cupcake? That’s not breakfast. What’s the difference between this and pancakes and syrup?
I hold out the container. “Which first?”
“Cupcake! No! Lemon. The strawberry will overpower the lemon.”
“Okay, Ms. Patisserie.”
“Before we left, I was watching Chopped with Natalia.” Ivan’s old fling. They come and go. At least she was good with Katya. She didn’t come with us. I have a feeling Ivan didn’t expect to be here this long.
Katya was only two when our mother died. I know she doesn’t remember much about her, which is not a bad thing.
She takes a bite, her eyes shining. “It’s so fucking good.”
“Hey,” I laugh. “Watch your mouth.”
“Natalia said everyone swears.”
“Yeah, well, little girls shouldn’t talk like that.” Swearing is probably the tamest thing around her in this house.
“That’s sexist, Aiden.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
She laughs. “Try.” She holds the half-eaten bar up to me and I take a tiny bite.
Surprise hits me. The sweet yet sour flavors meld so well.
I’m not usually a fan of lemon, but it’s not too much.
Just the perfect balance of tart and sweet.
The flavors punch me. Damn. “Good, right?” I nod. Damn good. “Who made these?”
“A friend.” I smile. “He did a good job, huh?”
“Is he a boyfriend?” She giggles.
“No, brat.” I gently shove her. “Not a boyfriend.” The thought makes my skin crawl. I have enough issues. “He’s cute, though, I guess.” Awkward. Painfully so, but cute.
“Marry the cute baker man so I can make desserts with him. Then he can make us desserts every day.”
“Okay, enough sugar for you.” I put the rest of the squares and cupcakes back in the bag. “Share a couple with Koda, okay. And don’t eat them all and make your stomach hurt.”
“You’re not leaving yet,” she whines, looping her arms around my bicep.
“I have some things I have to do, okay?” Besides, my time is running out. “You have school tomorrow. Maybe I can meet you when you get off the bus.” I wonder if Ivan would allow that.
“I hate this house. It’s scary.”
The old farmhouse looks like it’s been sitting empty for decades.
When we first moved in, I cleaned her room for her.
She doesn’t have much in here, but she has her books.
I always make sure to check out libraries or thrift stores for free ones for her.
Right now, she’s reading some series about cats with wings. I have no idea.
I grab her hands and hold them in mine, punching down the guilt I feel. I hate this too. “It’s just a big old farmhouse. It makes a lot of noise. Koda is here, though, okay? Tell him if you need him to stay in here with you. I know he will.”
“Why can’t you stay here?” Because your father is the dick to end all dicks. This is why I need to find that statue, fast. It means freedom, and nothing is more important than that.
“You know I can’t.”
“I want to go with you.”
Fuck, she’s breaking my heart. “Tell you what . . .” She snuggles into my side. “I have one last job to do for Dad, then he’s going to help me and set up a place where you can come stay with me.”
“He’s not your dad.”
“I know, but it’d be weird if I called him Ivan, huh? He is your dad.”
“I guess.” Her fingers loosen the grip they have on my arm. “I want to go with you.”
“Soon, Kitty Kat.” I place a kiss on top of her head.
“What are you doing this time?”
I often wonder how much she knows or sees in this house. Koda spends a lot of time with her, but other than that she’s alone. Kids like us grow up quick. We learn lessons before the age of five that most don’t learn until their late teens or twenties.
“I just have to find a statue. It’s like a treasure hunt. It’ll be fun.” As long as I don’t have to hurt someone, it’s fine. It’s rare I need to get violent, though. Except last year.
I close my eyes and push away the memory.
Sawyer flashes in my mind, and I can’t imagine hurting him.
He seems so . . . pathetic.
She hugs me tight one last time. I am getting her out of here.
One way or another.
I won’t let anyone stand in my way.